Archive for the ‘Citi Building Megalith’ Category

Yggdrasil, as you may recall, is the world tree in Viking/Norse mythos. Its roots go down into the underworld of the undistinguished dead, Hel, and it crowns in the heaven of Asgard. There’s a dragon chewing at the deepest root, the so called “Midgard Serpent,” and there’s also a couple of tale telling squirrels who spend all their time running up and down the thing. Here in LIC, the closest thing we’ve got to this allegorical tree would be the Megalith, I guess. Often have I wondered how deep this sapphire dagger goes. Is it possible that the old adage “as above, so below” applies here?

- photo by Mitch Waxman

Long has one warned of that malediction which cannot possibly exist in the cupola of this structure. An impossible thing which gazes rapaciously down upon this corner of the megalopolis, watching mankind with its unblinking three lobed eye and commanding a global army of mortal acolytes – surely this is a sick fantasy, the concoction or delusion of a paranoid mind. What sort of thing does not feel, nor breathe, nor sleep – but endlessly hungers instead? Imagine that if such a sky flung thing could exist, what its subterranean counterpart might be like?

- photo by Mitch Waxman

If “as above, so below” applies and that thing which cannot possibly exist in the sapphire Yggdrasil of Queens has an antipode in the ground, what might one expect to find some fifty three stories below LIC? I can attest that never have I witnessed messenger squirrels moving along the glassine surfaces of the Megalith but I’m not in any position to tell you what’s going on beneath it.

Who can guess, after all, all there is that might be buried down there?

You many have noticed a certain invective this week, aimed specifically at the so called “Listicles.” The phylum of Internet posts propagated by buzzfeed and other high volume sites which promise “5 things we love about” or “3 things we hate about” or “7 best moments in…” annoy me as they tend to dumb down the discourse and feed off of content created by others. One does not offer promises which will not be kept, but one oath which a humble narrator will swear to is that Newtown Pentacle will not be offering posts of that ilk to you in 2015. My plan for the year is to continue the current publishing schedule – 5 days a week, Monday to Friday, with posts arriving sometime between 11 a.m. and 2 p.m. Add in my two posts a week at Brownstoner Queens, as well as my other obligations, and I think you’ll agree that my plate is rather full. Pictured above: one of the best lit USPS trucks on Northern Blvd in Queens, which is parked by a Best Buy.

- photo by Mitch Waxman

Goals for the new year are non existent. I have an odd desire to photograph Rockaway Beach during a blizzard, for some reason, but plans for the year are still forming up. When Spring comes, I’ll likely resume my walking tours of the Newtown Creek watershed and other area waterways, but nothing is definite or scheduled yet. I do have a certain something that I’m trying to cook up on Staten Island, but it’s too early to mention specifics on that one. One desire which I will admit to is to spend some time exploring the more easterly parishes of Queens a bit, scuttling past Maspeth and Jackson Heights and into the central districts of the Borough.

- photo by Mitch Waxman

There’s plenty going on right here in LIC to keep an eye on, of course. The Degnon Terminal will be receiving a major facelift this year when LaGuardia Community College implements its capital program in January to reconstruct the facade of its “Building C” – the former “Thousand Windows Bakery” of the Loose Wiles company. Additionally, Tower Town has now extended itself all the way to Queens Plaza and there’s lots of new construction going on to keep an eye on. As always, however, My Beloved Creek will retain center stage in 2015.

Curmudgeon, that’s what one fears he is best described as these days. It is best to be alone, I think. At least that way the only person that can disappoint or malign, and the methods utilized thereof, is well known. Frankly, I’ve grown tired of watching others play out their passion plays and foibles, while heading toward obvious conclusions. I’m not going to be saving anyone from themselves anymore, as that circuitry has become burned out in my brain. Go ahead and grasp that wire which has fallen into a puddle, for I’m not going to caution you not to. Not anymore. Go ahead, see what happens.

Misanthropy is the general hatred, distrust or disdain of the human species or human nature. A misanthrope, or misanthropist is someone who holds such views or feelings. The word’s origin is from Greek words μῖσος (misos, “hatred”) and ἄνθρωπος (anthrōpos, “man, human”). The condition is often confused with asociality.

- photo by Mitch Waxman

Logical progressions, falling dominoes… I can see these things clearly. Incompetence is rewarded in modern discourse, where “trying” is a worthy alternative to succeeding. Everybody is a winner and there is no qualitative scale by which to judge the efficacy of action. The human hive has driven me to the edge of wit, and everywhere I look – what drives our society is the notion of what should be rather than what is. A humble narrator wishes nothing more than to emulate Ezekiel and retreat to the hermitage of wild mountain tops to enjoy some alone time.

A loner is a person who avoids or does not actively seek human interaction. There are many reasons for solitude, intentional or otherwise. Intentional reasons include spiritual, mystic and religious considerations or personal philosophies. Unintentional reasons involve being introverted, highly sensitive, extremely shy, or having various mental disorders.

- photo by Mitch Waxman

Vain glory and hubris rule. False faith and political equivalency rule over the hive, with carefully selected cautionary tales presented by self elected elites as exemplars of the “way things should be.” All these ideations drive one towards isolation, the status of a curmudgeon, and are exactly the sort of emotionally callous states that the forces shaping our society hope we will all embrace.

note: Today’s “depressive” post will likely be followed by a “manic” one tomorrow, btw.

Bipolar disorder, also known as bipolar affective disorder (and originally called manic-depressive illness), is a mental disorder characterized by periods of elevated mood and periods of depression. The elevated mood is significant and is known as mania or hypomania depending on the severity or whether there is psychosis. During mania an individual feels or acts abnormally happy, energetic, or irritable. They often make poorly thought out decisions with little regard to the consequences. The need for sleep is usually reduced. During periods of depression there may be crying, poor eye contact with others, and a negative outlook on life.

A single image greets you this morning, as will be the case through the Thanksgiving holiday.

A humble narrator requires a break periodically, to recharge and reinvent. Worry not, however, for pithy commentary and puckish intent returns on the Monday following Thanksgiving – the first of December.

Long has one theorized that the biblical Garden of Eden was actually located in what is now known to be North America, specifically at the corner of 42nd and Broadway in Manhattan. The metaphor of mankind turning a paradise into Times Square is somewhat delicious, but one wonders if perhaps this theorized location of the former Garden of Eden is just a little too far west and that paradise lost is actually found in Queens Plaza. A vile place, fraught with multiple hazards for the itinerant pedestrian, Queens Plaza wants you dead – and it will try to kill you.

- photo by Mitch Waxman

All of the human senses are under severe assault in this place. Harsh light creates glaring contrasts, and oily shadows slither twixt and fore. From above, a cacophony that drowns out all other aural information is accrued as two elevated subway lines converge. The tumult is amplified by the roadways and their torrent of automotive flow, as well as the many vertical metal surfaces which tend to amplify and reflect noise rather than abate it, while steel columns heavily shadow the pavement. Engine exhaust fills the air, and lungs, with an oily miasma. From below – the thrumming vibrations of speeding locomotives burrow deep into the intestines, shaking the bowels. Bike lanes cross and intersect with pedestrian ones, allowing spandex clad missiles purchase to surprise and surpass an ambling innocent, and a truly byzantine series of street markings conflict, confuse, and astound.

- photo by Mitch Waxman

That’s what one experiences just as you near Queens Plaza, as vague and existential dread overtakes you. Realization of the true randomness of fate blossoms upon reaching the locus of the Great Machine, where vehicles of many types and descriptions approach mighty Queensboro. One might trip while walking cracked pavement cloaked in shadows, be pummeled by some loosened piece of the overhead tracks, or be impacted upon by 200 pounds of spandex clad primate riding his bike at 10-15 mph on the sidewalk. A car might strike, a bus would hit, a truck could squish. There’s also the other pedestrians to consider… with their blood shot eyes rapaciously darting and or noticing passerby. The world is a scary place, for one such as myself, and Queens Plaza is especially scary.

This morning, the first thing I saw was an older woman (late 50’s, I’d guess) disposing of some garbage by throwing it into the tree pit in front of my house.

As it would be an impossibility for one such as myself not to chide or comment on such an act, I offered “Hey, where do you live? I’ll come to your place and throw garbage in front of your house.” She smiled, and kept on walking, never once thinking that she should pick up her discarded shit and drop it into the litter basket on the corner which was within eye shot.

What the hell is wrong with people? How is this ok?

- photo by Mitch Waxman

One attempts to live a life which will have minimal negative impact upon others. All of my efforts in recent years are bound around the idea of “What would Superman do” in any given situation, a moral rubric which serves me pretty well in ethical gray areas. If the Kent wouldn’t do it, why would you?

The human infestation hereabouts, however, doesn’t seem to subscribe to any other dictum than selfishness and wild abandon in the public space. All the while of course, as they leave a stream of litter behind them, they’ll tell you that Queens is going to hell in a a hand basket and that “things aren’t the way they used to be.”

- photo by Mitch Waxman

It’s not a law and order kind of thing, we’d all need a personal cop to keep us in line if it were. The depersonalizations of modern life, led by corporatists and sophist political operators, are where I ascribe blame. Somebody else’s problem is all of our problem in tight quarters like New York City. Where things have gone to hell in a hand basket is precisely between our ears, and I have no idea what Superman would do with that.

That’s the Tug Ireland on Newtown Creek, at the Lukoil Getty bulkhead, nearby the fabulous Tidewater building, alongside the Greenpoint Avenue Bridge, in a spot that one refers to as DUGABO. Ireland has been mentioned before at this, your Newtown Pentacle, in the posts “sizable rift” and “thither shouldst.”

- photo by Mitch Waxman

This shot is noteworthy simply for the fact that Newtown Creek ain’t what she used to be, maritime traffic wise, and the fact that one seldom sees a Tug tied up anywhere in the harbor. Normally, tugs are like police cars or taxi cabs – existing in a state of perpetual motion while in pursuit of their duties, and any time which a working vessel spends inert and at dock is costing the owner a pile of cash and its crew lost wages.

- photo by Mitch Waxman

Can’t tell you what Ireland was up to, tied off in Blissville to the Tidewater building bulkheads. I can tell you that it looked real pretty, bathed in the late afternoon radiance offered by the burning thermonuclear eye of god itself, while bobbing around on the malign surface of a waterway demarcating the currently undefended border of Brooklyn and Queens that is called Newtown Creek.

There are two public Newtown Creek walking tours coming up, one in LIC, Queens and one in Greenpoint, Brooklyn.